


a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams

by abbeghoul



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 07:04:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeghoul/pseuds/abbeghoul
Summary: A year after the world almost ends, Martin decides to propose. He's very Martin about it.





	a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Simply the Best by Tina Turner because I listened to the [Schitt's Creek cover by Noah Reid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MsRUnInJ4CQ) the whole time I was writing this fic.

A year after the world almost ended, Martin Blackwood was making porridge over the stove in his apartment while his boyfriend slept in the next room.

It was a Saturday morning and for once, they’d both taken the day off, so Martin wanted to do something nice for Jon, who rarely ate more than a quick breakfast.

In the wake of the failed Watcher’s Crown, Jon had approached Martin in his newly restored office. Back from the Lonely, Martin had been desperate for connection, but mostly desperate for Jon who had, luckily, felt the same. In a quiet moment, they’d both confessed that they couldn’t be without the other and had gone on their first date that night. In the time since, they had grown impossibly closer and, though the eldritch horrors that haunted their world still terrorized them, they had found comfort in their own domesticity and made a home together.

A sharp, high pitched whistle rang through the flat, snapping Martin out of his thoughts. The sound was accompanied by the floor behind him creaking, and he turned to see Jon, coming in from the bedroom, grab the kettle and reach for two mugs.

“Good morning,” Martin said, a cheerful smile on his face as he turned the heat off under the pot.

“Morning,” Jon murmured, eyes half shut. He leaned over and gave Martin a peck on the cheek before moving past him to pick up the box of tea bags. He placed one in Martin’s favorite mug- a white one with the words “You’re a cute-tea” on it that Jon had gotten him, not that he would ever admit it- and four into his own cup, a gray one with three cartoon cats on it that said, “Best Cat Dad” that Martin had gotten him when they had adopted Emily Dickinson.

Martin wrinkled his nose but didn’t stop smiling. The first few times Jon had stayed over at Martin’s, he’d been horrified by Jon’s insistence on using four tea bags for a single cup of tea, but he’d grown used to his boyfriend’s antics. He split the porridge between two bowls and topped each with a sprinkle of brown sugar then took them to the table. Jon finished making the tea and sat down across from him, a sleepy smile on his face.

_He really is useless without caffeine,_ Martin thought, knowing Jon was going to perk up as soon as he finished his cup.

Martin talked as they ate, and after a few sips, Jon woke up enough to respond, talking softly about the book he had started reading. Martin watched him as he spoke and picked up his mug to take a sip. Jon had made it perfectly for him- a splash of milk and a teaspoon of honey. He stopped, holding the mug in mid-air, his arm frozen on the downward arch to place it back on the table. He looked up at Jon, still sleepy, but more animated while talking. His hair was a mess and he had bags under his eyes from where he had stayed up late the night before. He leaned down to scratch Emily Dickinson behind her ears from where she laid under the table and she purred in response. It was-

_Perfect,_ Martin thought, finally putting his mug down. Everything about that moment was absolutely perfect. After all the hell they’d been through with the Institute and the Watcher’s Crown, after losing each other and coming together again, after all the emptiness he had felt with the Lonely, Martin was finally in the middle of a moment where he could say, _I want the rest of my life to be exactly like this._

It took his breath away, and he spent the next couple minutes just staring at Jon as he ate before Jon looked up and noticed the eyes on him. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Martin, “I just love you.” It wasn’t the first or even hundredth time he’d said it. Jon had said it first, before they’d even officially started dating, and they said they loved each other a dozen times a day, at least. But this meant something more. This “I love you” meant “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” and “I desperately want to marry you.”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about marrying Jon before—he’d had a crush on the man for _years_ before they’d gotten together, and even back then he’d entertained the fantasy—but this was concrete. Important.

Jon smiled at him. “I love you, too,” he said, and reached a hand across the table to grab Martin’s and squeeze it before returning it to his mug.

Martin made up his mind then and there to propose.

* * *

Only, it wasn’t that easy. That morning breakfast had been two months ago, and Martin was as determined as he was then to propose to Jon. He’d bought a ring shortly after, a simple silver band with no embellishments. He’d been unsure for a while if he should even get one—Jon wasn’t the type for jewelry—but his own desire for a physical representation of their relationship won out. He wasn’t nervous about Jon’s answer, exactly. They’d only been dating about a year by the time Martin decided he wanted to propose, but they were closer than they ever had been, and very much in love. They’d been essentially living together for almost that whole time, since neither of them had wanted to be alone after the Watcher’s Crown and the ripples afterwards. Martin was sure that, even if Jon didn’t want to marry him, it wouldn’t scare Jon into leaving.

No, the problem was finding out a way to ask him. 

If Martin was the one being proposed to, he would love a big romantic gesture. Not necessarily in public, but something sweet and cliché. Martin’s favorite genre was romantic comedies, so he would love a beautiful speech à la Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth, or a scavenger hunt filled with clues from their relationship, but proposing to Jon needed to be more subtle. Jon wouldn’t appreciate anything that called attention to them, and Martin wasn’t the best at planning anyways.

So, Martin kept brainstorming. He considered taking Jon to their favorite restaurant for dinner, then scraped that idea because they went to that place almost every week, and he wanted the proposal to be special.

Going to a high-scale restaurant and hiding the ring in champagne or cake was romantic, but it was obvious, and too public, besides.

Martin had taken to watching his favorite movies when Jon was working late to see how the love interests proposed, but he doubted Jon would like it much if he did it in front of the archival staff, like in The Proposal, and Daisy, Melanie, and Basira would tease him for his inevitable crying.

He thought about a weekend trip. The top of the Eiffel Tower was supposed to be romantic, and it had been years since either of them had had a vacation. Jon could even speak the language now, which would be helpful. Something about it didn’t feel right, though, and Martin filed the weekend trip away as an idea for the future to make them both take a break.

He’d been agonizing for two months when he finally decided to ask someone for help.

He went to Georgie first.

“I just don’t see why you think I can help you,” she said.

“You dated him! You know what he likes!” Martin insisted.

“ _Ten years ago,_ Martin,” Georgie rolled her eyes.

“But you’re his friend now!”

“Yeah, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can help you _propose._ ”

Martin sighed and leaned back on Georgie’s couch, petting the Admiral absently as he did so. Georgie, taking pity on him, relented. “Look, Martin, it doesn’t matter how you propose to him. Jon loves you.”

“I know that,” Martin said- and he _did_ know that. In their world of horror entities and spooky statements and constant threats of death, he knew for certain that Jon loved him and, more than anything, that he loved Jon too. “I just- I want it to be special. After everything, he- we deserve something special.”

Georgie leaned forward. “It will be. No matter how you propose, the fact that you are at all means it will be special. Don’t worry too much about it.”

“Like I’ve ever been able to not worry about anything,” Martin said under his breath.

Georgie rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Martin. Now, are you staying for a movie?”

* * *

So, Georgie hadn’t been any help at all.

Martin went to Daisy next. Though they had their differences, Daisy was the closest person to Jon at the Institute, after Martin. Their time in the coffin together had wrapped a string around them that no one could untangle, so even though Martin hadn’t been her biggest fan at first, he’d grown to like her over the countless hours she’d spent in his and Jon’s apartment.

Still, he wasn’t sure she would be the best person to talk to about proposing. She just didn’t seem very romantic. But she knew Jon well, and she was honest, so he decided to give it a try. It was just bad luck that she wasn’t alone when he went to ask her.

“Daisy?” he called out, tapping his knuckles on her office door.

“It’s open,” she replied from behind the door.

He twisted the knob and walked in. “Hey, do you have a minute? I need to ask you about—” He froze as he realized Melanie was sitting in a chair in front of Daisy’s desk. “Oh, sorry, I’ll just come back.”

He turned to walk out, but Melanie called after him. “It’s fine, Martin, I’m getting bored anyways.”

Martin winced. Melanie was _not_ the person he wanted to talk to. He liked her well enough, but she and Jon were more antagonistic than not most days, and Martin wasn’t sure she liked _him_ very much either.

“No, no,” he waved his hand, desperately trying to escape. “It’s fine, it was nothing.”

Melanie narrowed her eyes at him. “Blackwood. Get in here.”

He sighed and sat down in the remaining chair. “Honestly, it’s fine, it’s just- personal.”

Melanie raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were that close, Martin.”

“No, I-“ He paused, then took a deep breath. Fine, this was happening. “I was going to ask for advice on proposing to Jon.”

Two sets of eyes snapped towards him and Melanie leaned forward from where she had been reclined messily in her chair.

“You’re proposing to Jon?” Daisy asked.

“I’m _trying_ to,” Martin mumbled. “Yes,” he said more clearly, “And I need ideas on how to do it.”

Melanie scoffed, a grin tugging at her lips. “And you thought Daisy was going to play Cupid? Have you _met_ Daisy?”

“Hey!” She said, indignantly. “I’ll have you know, I’m the one who proposed to Basira and it went very well!”

“How did you do it?” Martin asked, shifting in the chair to look at her directly.

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll want to do what she did,” Melanie said.

Martin scrunched his eyes at her. “What?”

Daisy sighed. “I asked her after we had sex, Martin, it was all v _ery romantic,_ ” she said, side-eyeing Melanie. “But definitely not Jon’s thing.”

“No,” Martin sagged. So, Daisy wasn’t going to be much help either.

“Look,” she said. “Jon loves you. Period. It doesn’t really _matter_ how you propose. Just ask him.”

He sighed. “I’m trying to. I just can’t decide how.”

“Seriously, Martin, just buy a nice bottle of wine and ask him,” Melanie cut in. “Daisy’s right, it’s not that hard.”

“Easy for you to say! You’ve never proposed to anyone.”

“No, but I’ve been proposed _to_ dozens of times,” Melanie said, shrugging.

“ _What?_ ” Daisy and Martin demanded in synch.

“You _have?_ ” Martin felt his eyes grow the size of saucers.

“it’s not a big deal. I was on a popular YouTube show with die-hard fans.”

Martin reeled. He forgot he had semi-famous friends. He closed his eyes for a second. “Okay, but that’s not actually proposing to someone. Those people didn’t _know_ you. And you didn’t say yes to any of them.”

“Felt real to them.”

He glanced over at Daisy, who nodded like that was a normal thing to say.

“Okay, but that doesn’t help me with proposing to Jon because he’s my actual boyfriend and not a stranger.”

`”I don’t know what to tell you,” Melanie said. “It’ll be fine no matter what you do.”

“She’s right. Now get out of my office and go actually propose, would you?” Daisy made a shooing motion with her hands and Martin took the hint. As he was walking out the door, she yelled after him, “And I’d better be the best man!”

“ _Shhhhhh!”_ He hissed. Just because Jon’s office was on the other side of the office doesn’t mean he couldn’t be walking by. He wasn’t, thankfully, but Martin hurriedly closed the door and rushed off anyways.

* * *

In the two weeks since talking to Daisy and Melanie, Martin hadn’t come any closer to an actual plan. Between his chronic indecision and Jon and Basira having to chase down a statement giver in Moldova, he hadn’t had time to propose.

“Dr. Ceban was experiencing visions of a figure made of static that only came to her when she was alone. It’s unclear what entity this static figure belongs to. Perhaps the Spiral?” Jon read through his notes, sitting across from Martin. He paused to take a sip of the tea Martin had made him. “I need to remember to ask Helen the next time I see her. How was everything while I was gone?”

“Fine,” Martin said. “Melanie hunted down that statement you were looking for on a potential reincarnation of Agnes Montague, but she doesn’t think it’ll lead anywhere. Apparently, there weren’t many actual details in the statement, and the person who gave it wanted to remain anonymous. Only one person came in to make a statement, and it recorded well on the digital equipment, so I filed it away. A researcher from the Usher Foundation called asking to schedule a visit to examine one of the Leitner’s, and—what?”

At some point while Martin was talking, Jon had started staring at him. There was a soft smile on his lips and his eyes were focused on Martin’s. “Jon?”

He stood up and walked around the desk to the chair where Martin was sitting, then leaned down and, placing his hands on either side of Martin’s faced, kissed him softly. Martin closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, his hands resting on Jon’s waist. Jon pulled back after a moment.

“Yes,” he whispered tenderly, hands still on Martin’s face and eyes piercing into his, smiling widely.

“What?” Martin asked breathlessly. Jon always kissed Martin with love, but this had been even more sweet and genuine than normal.

Jon laughed quietly. “Yes, I’ll marry you Martin.”

Martin stammered, “I don’t- I- but- oh _._ ” Sometimes Martin forgot his boyfriend ( _fiancé?_ ) could just Know things without having to be told. “ _Oh_. Yes?”

“Yes.”

Martin grinned and pulled Jon back in for another kiss, finally relaxing for the first time in almost three months. Daisy and Georgie had been right, he hadn’t needed to worry at all.

* * *

They were engaged for two years before they get married. It was a small ceremony—neither of them had any family, and they had few friends between them—but Martin took forever to decide on the details. Daisy had a beer pong contest with Georgie to see who got to be best man, and won, but Georgie still got to be maid of honor. They posed for wedding photos with Emily Dickenson, and in the photos of the wedding party, everyone was smiling wider than they had in years.

It was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> this idea stemmed from me being mad at people being angsty in the rqdbfc, so thanks clowns


End file.
